Why I Tri (Why I do Triathlons)

A day after I crossed the finish line of my most anticipated race of the year, one in which I devoted 8 months of my life to train for, I started questioning my intention for pursuing and staying in the sport. 

I had just completed what seemed to be an important race to me - my first 140.6-mile Ironman distance race. Moving forward, I didn’t wanna continue my pursuit for it simply to improve my race times - what would that prove? That I was capable of more stellar performance? No, I wasn’t as interested in bettering my race times as I was searching for the heart and purpose of the sport. 

For seven days I sought for answers. I asked some of my triathlete friends what motivated them in their pursuit of the Ironman. A number of times I was moved by their response and what the sport meant to them. 

I was inspired afresh hearing from them, but for me personally, my vision for the sport remained a blur. 

Until two nights ago. Something shifted on the inside of me. It felt like someone flicked on my internal light switch. Here’s my moment of enlightenment:

I was transported exactly 3 years back to July 2010. A girl I knew had signed up for a race and couldn’t do it at the last minute, I was asked if I’d do it, and I thought, why not? Up to that point I had never trained for a triathlon - I didn’t know how to swim front crawl, I just started biking 2 months prior and I was but a casual runner. 

It was an Olympic-distance race, I did it, loved it and was thirsty for more. 

That was my first introduction to triathlon after which I started to observe the general society at large and their perception of health and fitness.

I look at the average middle-age population, our parents and loved ones included, people in their 50s and 60s - who feel like they’re old, sickly and do not have much going on for them as the years quickly pass them by.

And I look at some of my triathlete friends who, similarly, are in their 50s, 60s, some 70s even, who don’t just do the regular triathlons, but the Ironman races, and how incredibly strong, healthy and fit they are, and, oh, the vigor of life they exhibit in their personal being. 

Between the two, I aspire to be the latter. 

To further seal my decision, I got to know a sweet, down-to-earth and extremely fit 77-year-old. Harriet Anderson is a legend in the American triathlon scene - she is one of the oldest triathletes in the U.S. who has completed not just a couple, but twenty-whopping-one Kona Ironman. 21! She did her first sprint triathlon at the age of 50, won her age group, and has not looked back. She has since completed over 80 triathlon races, and 21 of those 80 races is the Ironman, one of the toughest single-day races in the world today, where you race 140.6 miles by swimming, biking and running.

Every so often, I remind myself, I wanna be like Harriet Anderson when I’m in my 70s. Heck, even till I’m in my 80s, I wanna continue to be fit as a fiddle by doing triathlons. 

The Ironman earns the respect of triathletes because it is an event where you race not just other people, but yourself, to train your body to generate enough power and energy to complete a 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike and 26.2-mile run in anything between 10-17 hours. 

Because of the extremity of the sport, you can’t help but to be changed by it. The extreme discipline, dedication, determination and focus that you put into transforming yourself into an endurance machine that refuses to quit when the going gets tough - in training, in your daily life, and on race day. 

I’m not the fastest, strongest or most-gifted triathlete. In all honesty, I am your average girl-next-door triathlete with average or below average race results. 

But what I lack in speed and talent, I make up for with my name’s initials, AT: Attitude and Tenacity

By attitude, I mean a faith-filled, positive attitude. 

And tenacity - it’s a powerful trait I hold dear. Tenacity goes beyond determination. By definition, tenacity means “persistent determination”.

Every time I cross the finish line of a race, I’m overcomed with a surging sense of gratitude for the health that I have, and this body which I’ve been blessed with to use as a vessel to channel a positive message of inspiration to the people around me through my athletic pursuits and never-say-die attitude. 

So I tri, and keep tri-ing, because triathlon keeps me on the edge and makes me dream bigger every time. 

Doing an Ironman is not a one-all and be-all. Doing an Ironman is part of a journey to have a higher appreciation for other things in life - for instance, enjoying the beauty of nature while I am out riding, running trails, the ability for us humans to take a leaf from nature and learn to swim efficiently like a fish, etc. Or simply to enjoy the camaraderie of fellow triathletes and endurance junkies that I train with. I've found that the heart and beauty of the Ironman is that it changes each triathlete individually, yet it binds us collectively through a uniquely shared experience.

The challenge for me personally is to keep looking for higher mountains to climb. For some their higher mountains could be to better their Ironman finish times; for me it could be a longer, further endurance race. 

For now, I have my eyes set on cycling across the US from coast to coast in 28 days. A girl can dream, can’t she? ;)

A similar post is found here:

http://lildrummertalk.blogspot.com/2013/08/why-i-tri-why-i-do-triathlons.html

Nailed my first Ironman 140.6 miles: Vineman 2013

Doing my first Ironman is like falling in love for the first time.

Throughout the race, I was pleasantly surprised at the incredible peace and ease at which I swam, bike and ran.

The swim has traditionally been my weakest and most challenging portion of the race.

On race morning, I was unusually calm and in good spirits.

The race started at 6.30 am. My swim wave started at 6.36 am. Russian River is clear, calm and shallow. For the first time in any triathlon race, I swam with ease and confidence, and came out of the water 3 mins faster than I expected. Good start to a long day!

Training for Vineman started in Nov 2012. For 8 months I lived, breathed, ate, slept, dreamt, talked and thought nothing but triathlon.

Through all of this, my husband has been my biggest cheerleader and supporter. On days when I wanted to opt out of training for the excuse of spending time with him, he firmly said no, go out and train, or you'll not be yourself. By saying I won't be myself he meant I won't be the super hyperactive Angie who thrives on endurance training adrenalin. And those daily shots of adrenaline that comes from training makes up my very DNA which, if not taken for a day, throws me off balance and into a low state.

If you think I'm an endurance junkie, you're probably right, which is why when I sustained a nasty hamstring/calf injury on my right leg 4 weeks into the race and I couldn't run or train effectively for 1.5 weeks, I was rather down, anxious and worried that I would not be able to compete at all. But my triathlete friend, GR, who saw me through my training taught me to apply the human factor to my training – to listen to my body, to rest when needed, not to take each training session as a killer session, to learn to train by feel, and most of all, to trust the process.

If not for him, I wouldn't have done as well as I did in the race.

He taught me Pacing, Nutrition, Execution (PNE).

I carried those 3 words with me into the race. You see, an Ironman race is long. Professionals complete it in 8-9 hours; for most everyone else, i.e. the age groupers, we complete it in anything between 9-17 hours.

I took the number in between and based on my current capability, estimated an overall finish time of 13-13.5 hours.

In order to complete within that target finish time, I have to ensure that I pace myself - to swim, bike and run at my trained speed, and not to go out too hard and fast at the start when I feel fresh, only to be depleted midpoint and slow drastically down at the end portion. I'm glad to report that I paced myself evenly throughout the entire race, as I kept drilling the 3 keys words in my head: Pacing, Nutrition, Execution.

PACING
Race day isn't about hoping for a miracle that I'd be able to go faster and finish in incredible time. Race day is all about Execution: executing your race pace and sticking to the plan. I can't expect to do on race day what I haven't done in training. In the past that was the mistake I made and so I didn't fare well in those races, but for this important Ironman race, I sobered up and realized that race day is all about executing what I know my body is capable of accomplishing.

Coming out of the 2.4-mile swim in 1 hour 37 mins, I smiled. The hardest part of the race (for me) was over! Now all I have to do is bike 112 miles and run 26.2 miles.

I got onto the bike with ease, enjoyed the ride, and savored the beauty of Sonoma County. The entire bike course was flanked by wineries and vineyards on the left and right, and in the horizon, green and golden mountains. I must have looked rather silly smiling and beaming on my bike while the other competitors raced the course.

If there was a miracle that happened on race day, it was the weather. Sonoma County has traditionally been extremely hot in the summer, and the past few years during Vineman, the temperature averaged the high 90s Fahrenheit (30s Celsius).

Miraculously, the weather on race day this year was in the 60s Fahrenheit (10-ish Celsius), which I saw as a sign that God has my back on this race. He set the stage and made everything perfect for me and the rest of the participants that day.

NUTRITION
During the bike portion, I religiously took in my nutrition: a combination of Lara Bars, Clif Bars, Clif Shot Bloks and Team Osmo Hydration Drink.

It's important to have your nutrition come in different shapes, sizes and medium for variety sake and to prevent boredom on the bike; well at least for me, this formula seem to work out very well. I had no gastrointestinal (GI) or bloating issues.

EXECUTION
I wasn't racing anybody. I was simply executing my race plan. And I wasn't hard on myself - I allowed myself to hit the bathroom twice on the bike, doing ahem, both a big and a small number, slowly wheeling in to the aid stations and stopping to take a minute of rest, thank the volunteers and chatted with and encouraged other triathletes. I wasn't just racing - I was enjoying every moment of the day. I knew it was gonna be a long day, so I didn't wanna be hard on myself but to enjoy it with other people.

I've never ridden 112 miles in one stretch without longer than an hour break in between before, so by the time I was done, I was very pleased and knew that with the swim and bike conquered, the run was just gonna be a blast - coz I love the run the best.

During training, running after biking always hurts - my chest would hurt, my heart rate would escalate, and my legs would feel heavy like lead. Brick runs (running after biking) was my least favorite part of training because it spells PAIN.

Imagine my surprise when I got onto the run course - I thought I was gonna hurt, but no, I felt incredibly good! So good it was almost unbelievable. I felt no pain, no discomfort, just sheer joy and the ability to run easily after over 9 hours on the swim and bike.

So ran I did. Smiling most of the way. I received numerous cheers from supporters for holding a good form and pace and smiling widely despite the brutality of the run that most of the triathletes on the course were struggling with. Many walked the course, especially uphill. I'm glad to report that I ran the whole way through, even uphill, when nobody else did, and walked only the aid stations and stopped to use the portable loo twice.

A number of times my right calf and knee hurt, but each time it did, I prayed and asked for the Holy Spirit to flow through my body, into my cells and muscles. God answered every bit of my prayer, and held me up strong throughout the run, till the finish line, where I sprinted the last 200 meters and was announced as a first time finisher as I smiled and raised my hands in victory. I did it! I finally nailed this dream that eluded me 2 years ago when I failed to complete it in Germany.

My official finish time: 14:15:38

The victory is sweet, but not as sweet as the lessons learnt along this journey that made me mature as a triathlete. Would I do this again? For sure. Even if I have a baby, I'm determined to train through my pregnancy and come back even stronger and speedier than before.

EPILOGUE
Having competed in several half Ironman distance races and experienced the pain and brutality of those races, I've often questioned myself if I could really complete a full Ironman – which would demand double the distance, pain and agony. Little do I know how miraculous the human mind and body is - crossing the finishing line on July 27, I give my Master Creator the fullest credit for His handiwork in me - for fearfully and wonderfully creating me to be the endurance athlete that I am. And I vow to glorify Him always, in all my sporting pursuits.

I'm thankful also, for the amazing support I've received from those who love, care, encourage and cheer me on for the past many years, who believed in me and never doubted my ability to do this. My husband, family, pastors, friends, coaches, fellow triathletes - my success is every bit yours - thank you for helping me reach for the stars. 

My cheerleader & most supportive spouse

My support team and incredible housemate, Ash - first time anybody made me a poster!
(psst.. he's super sweet, single & available!)

A similar post is found here: 
http://lildrummertalk.blogspot.com/2013/07/nailed-my-first-ironman-1406-miles.html

Train right: Burn fats, not carbs

Training is not altogether that fun, especially when you’ve to do something out of your comfort zone, like training more hours and not fueling prior to workout.

But this discomfort is the very thing that’s pushing me to go to places I’ve never thought I could go, and do things I’ve never thought I could.

Let me explain. Prior to this, it would be impossible for me to train without first having a pre-workout bite, even if it’s small, like a piece of plain bread or a small bowl of oatmeal. I have experienced sessions where I’d start a workout on an empty stomach and my training would be highly compromised because I would be dizzy with lack of food and fall short in my speed during training - in other words, I wouldn’t be able to perform to a level that I would be capable of.

Thus this concept of the need to fuel prior to a workout became an important backbone in my training philosophy. I could never understand how some of my other triathlete friends could start a long bike without first having breakfast - I’d need at least 2 slices of toast with thick peanut butter spread, at the least, else I wouldn’t last the first hour of the ride.

When my new coach came along and insisted that I start my workout on an empty stomach, with only water for the first hour up till 1.5 hours, I was obedient to the tee and eradicated all temptation to fuel during the first 1-1.5 hours. Only after 1.5 hours did I consume energy bars to fuel me for the rest of the usually 3-4-hour workout.

I surprised myself but how my body actually adapted to this new practice so quickly. From day 1 of training, I strictly practiced this method and not only was I able to go through the whole workout with little trouble, I was effectively teaching my body to burn fats instead of carbs - thus becoming a more efficient endurance athlete, which is super important in the sport of triathlon. I also noticed that after a workout, I wasn’t crazily famished and ready to chew off my arm as I was previously on a high-carb diet pre, during and post workout. Now, after a workout, I could go on without food for another 2 hours before I have my meal.

It’s fascinating what the body is capable of doing when our mind understands the right sciences and endeavors to do it right.

For change to happen, it first must happen in the mind - the mind must first comprehend, only then will the body co-operate and perform accordingly.

Weight loss: Burn fats, not carbs

The best way to change a fixed routine that you’re unhappy with is to pack up, get up and get away for 2 weeks. That way, you’re setting a new routine, and when you get back, you’re gonna realize that your old routine doesn’t stick no more. Try it - I have, several times now, and it works.

Let me be more specific. I was doing high intensity training 1.5-2 hours every day, and naturally, my body craved and needed carbs to fuel those workouts, even after, I’d constantly be needing to fuel every 2-3 hours. I experienced sugar spikes and dips throughout the day, and was always looking for bread, biscuits, or snacks to satiate my appetite.

Then came a 2-week vacation where I was running an hour every morning at moderate intensity, driving and walking a lot, and eating only 3 meals a day. I wasn’t craving for food all the time as I did previously.

Then I got home. And the old routine of desiring snacks every other hour completely left me. In fact, I couldn’t stand the sight of snacks and threw them all away - biscuits, cookies, chocolates - all I wanted was healthy, natural, whole foods. And I wasn’t needing 5 or more meals a day as I did previously, now all I need is 2 meals and I’m good.

Why 2 meals? That’s because I’d start my morning workout without any breakfast, on an empty stomach, and after 1.5 hours of workout, I’d have a energy bar that would last me for the next 1.5-2 hours of workout. And after the 3-4-hour workout, I’d have an early lunch, followed by an early dinner 5 hours later.

I’ve lost weight with being disciplined in working out such that I’m burning fats and not carbs, and with that, I’ve acquired a less dependency on carbs as I was previously so accustomed to.

The general rule of thumb is this: the more you learn to burn fats in your workouts, the less carbs you need and the less carbs you crave. What you’d end up craving is healthy, whole food, wholesome meals, just 2-3 a day, and little or no desire for snacks, except for fruits and nuts.

The pain of training

As much as the indelible memories and pretty pictures of the scenes I witnessed and captured from my bike and run evoke envy, truth is, training is nothing short of hard work.

When I’m out training, I'm battling both myself and the elements.

The pain is real, the pain is now. The end (of each training session) is a distant image, because at the present moment, my lungs are short of air, my muscles are sore, my legs feel heavy like lead, my body is tense from the relentless lashing of the cold wind unleashing its might and fury here in the Bay area. When I’m swimming, the difficulty increases many notches, being the discipline I’m least proficient in - often, I feel like I’m fighting my biggest demons before entering the water and during the swim. It’s such a mental torture, yet I keep at it day after day.  

I may not confess this often enough, but I do now: I’m not a naturally gifted athlete, so I work doubly hard to be a better athlete than I think I’m capable of.  

Training is a tough task master that challenges me in every possible way - physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually sometimes (when I let out a great big sigh and whisper under my breath: Lord, please help me through this - I can’t do this by myself).

Yet, through it all, I love training. I love the distance it pushes me to go, the limitations it makes me break and the walls it makes me climb.

For all that we’ve been through, training is like a close buddy I’ve developed a relationship and affection for, and can’t do without.

So I will rise again

"Like a phoenix rising out of the ashes, so will I rise again..."


It's been liberating the past few months, taking a step back from a single-minded, one-track pursuit of a dream I hold so dear - to compete in the IronMan, and unleash my love for endurance sports.

While it is liberating on one hand, it has been emotionally draining on the other, as I tried to fill my life with things apart from swim, bike, run; and fail miserably at doing so. 

You see, despite my extroverted personality, I keep certain mundane routines, like eating the same food for months on end, listening to the same song over and over again, and running the same route every day for the past 3 years. 

So the truth be told, despite my withdrawal from IM Melbourne, despite my self declaration to re-evalute my motive for competing in IM, I continue to keep a humdrum routine of training, work and family, day in and day out. Social activities usually take a back seat. Like an addict, I can't function effectively without a daily dose of training, and keep to a strict routine of turning in to bed before 11pm in order to wake up at 3 or 4am to begin training, before heading to work.

And so I continue training and pushing myself to break my own limits every single day. 

Only difference is, I train now with a heightened conscience of my motive, and checking that what I do aligns with my purpose.

Every time I feel like I'm side tracking from my purpose in my sporting pursuit, I revisit my inspiration for triathlons. I don't claim to be anywhere near her standing and accomplishments, but I share her heartbeat for the sport and her clarity of her mission through the sport.

"When I first turned professional 4 ½ years ago I said to my then coach “Brett, I feel so selfish, everything I do in this sport is for me and me alone”. His response “Just you wait Chrissie, within a couple of years, through your achievements, you will be able to affect more change than you ever thought possible”. His prophecy has come true. I have said it before, and I will say it again, sport has phenomenal, far-reaching amazing power. It is a vehicle to do great things." 

-an excerpt from Chrissie's blog:

http://www.chrissiewellington.org/blog/world-ironman-championships-beyond-my-wildest-dreams/

And so this is my driving force, my guiding light: I have been blessed with amazing resources at my disposal - a healthy body, a strong heart, a quick mind, a disciplined will, and a relentless spirit - I have a responsibility of putting myself and these resources to good use in my area of passion and commitment, and believe that when I do, I am living out my purpose, which has far-reaching effects.  

Iron Redefined

The Ironman journey has helped many believe and accomplish things they never thought possible; unfortunately for me, it has caused me to spend more than I earn, made me extremely competitive and lose sight of the value of my decisions.

I'm glad for the timely wake up call to take a step back to reevaluate why I participate in the Ironman in the first place (was it purely for my own selfish gain, or was it for a larger cause?), and how I can be a better steward of my time, money and body.

During the three months I was in California, I encountered and befriended a bunch of incredible cyclists whose love for the great outdoors, warm hospitality to new riders, and extreme kindness to fellow riders humble me so. Their way of life embodies the true essence of sports and fitness - sporting for the well being of the body, mind and soul, and building great relationships and community.

I dug deep into my soul and am ashamed to find that I've tipped off the scale of true sporting pursuit. I was selfish, competitive, edgy, obsessive and reckless.

Remorse calls for radical action. And I did. I withdrew from a race I prepared many months for, with single minded focus - the Ironman Melbourne due to take place on 25 March 2012.

I lost a little of myself with my withdrawal from the race, but I'm certain what I'd gain in return would be so much more.

The return came very quickly. To my surprise, now that I'm off a demanding agenda as the Ironman, I'm running better timing than I did before, swimming happier and riding more efficiently. I am not ruled or boxed in by an obsessive need to keep to a strict training regime, and am liberated to take off to spend time with my family, without guilt.

In fact, the past two weeks spent with my family was the best I ever had and remembered in all my years. It's incredibly satisfying, the sacrifice made for quality family time - after all, we are nothing without our family; we are whole and complete, when rested and built upon the foundation of love found in family.

These said, I'm not a quitter, because I don't know how to. I hustle for what I believe in, for what I'm worth. This withdrawal from an important race is not the end of me, neither is it the end of my sporting pursuit.

I'm realigning my values and redefining my goals. And I'm making progress. Stand with me, believe with me - glorious days lie ahead.

Strapped Iron

What is life?

What is a life worth pursuing?

What is life, and life more abundantly?

Have I been sold by the idea of capitalism and strapped by its system?

The need to have more, if not the best. The need for distinguished branding, looking crisp and sharp, the need for prestige and status, the need to be noticed and looked upon with respect with the acquisition of wealth, status and power.

No, back track a little. Wealth, status and power come as a result of BEING IN the system, and playing by its game, its rules. The fastest, fittest, sly-est survive and climb to the top of the chain. As it is in the animal kingdom.

The beasts of the field - hunt for survival. Trees and plants - grow for survival.

People strive for achievement, fame, even for 15 minutes. What is the value after? The feel-good feeling lasts only a little while, but consider, does the time, effort and resources put into the achievement bring lasting value than mere fame and recognition that fleet as speedily as the whiff of the wind?

Schools are built for education. Sports are implemented to better the physical, mental and social well being of students.

But why are competition implemented? To test if the physical system and training work to make the human body achieve outstanding results in the midst of competition and pressure. And the reward for such time, effort and training is the medal. The feel-good feeling lasts for a moment on the podium, and after, with celebratory meals and salutary claps and slaps on the back. The medal that adorns the living room glass cabinet is looked upon from time to time while watching TV and its visible shine catches your eye. But the real deal is this - you know you are capable of more. You know that if you put your heart and soul into training for something, if you train under  the right coach, under the right circumstances, you can do better and achieve greater feats. You can break your own limits. You learn that nothing is ever achieved on your own accord. You learn that you need others to hep you in your pursuit - because we are born into a world made up of families, communities and societies. Just as it takes 2 individuals to produce another, it takes more than one person; it takes more than just you to make it out here on earth. But while here, don’t just work to survive. Work to live life. Work to enjoy all life has to offer. But do so, within your means. Do not buy into commercialism. Do not buy into systems that trap and enslave you. Always consider what moves you to a greater cause, take time to consider, reject and walk away from pure capitalism that distracts with the loudest sound horn of nothingness but pure financial gain for its creators. 


What lies beneath the Iron facade? 


The bottom line, in my humble opinion, should never be purely about money. The bottom line of any community and organization and system has to be about people. What makes the world go round isn’t money, but people. Yes, there is money to be made from people, with a smart system, but if money is the ultimate goal, the system is not sustainable and is likely to head for self destruction without a right motive to steer its course for sustainable growth.

Thus in my personal pursuit, if my motive is not right, if I’m not pursuing my Iron dream for people, I am merely a slave and tool of the system that has bought my soul, without paying me a single dime, but have me paying it lots in return. If I am not succeeding in touching lives, helping another, bettering someone else’s life through my pursuit, let me reconsider my next move.

Journey to Ironhood II: Week 24

Week 24: 10-16 Oct

A humbling experience in my first North Face trail race on 15 Oct, where   I encountered the first of many incidences never before experienced in previous races:

I started out strong and fast on a lovely Saturday morn, but barely 8km into the run, I threw up by the side path, emptying my stomach of fuel necessary for my run.

10km into the run, an excruciating pain shot through my right knee. Unwilling to give up and walk, I limped and hobbled the remaining 15km to the finish line, despite the pain that refused to subside.

Weaknesses humble us. It humbled me for sure. I hobbled in dejection as runner after runner overtook me on the trail - some looked back in sympathy and asked if I was alright; some zoomed past in a flash.

Still, I kept moving, focused on putting one foot in front of the other, fueled by a fire that wouldn't stop burning in my heart.

In the midst of my personal struggle,  a guy struggling with both cramped legs dropped onto the side path and asked for help. I stopped to massaged his legs; before long another runner came along and gave aid. We didn't care much about lost time; in moments of struggle, human compassion overtakes it all.

As I ran/limped/hobbled along to the finish, I greatly appreciated the camaraderie among runners that day - the ones who kept moving forward despite their bodily struggle and pain, the encouragement from fellow runners to keep on keeping on, those who share of their supplies with others,  and those who stopped to help others in need.

As my pain increased and my pace decreased, a group of guys ran alongside me and encouraged me to keep pushing - "only 1km to go" - they shouted. Like a turn of a switch, I ignored my legs, opened up my stride and increased pace.

I must have looked comical attempting to run with a limping right leg, and was half piqued that it wasn't 1 km to the finish line - it was about 2.5km. But I was thankful for those guys nonetheless - had it not been for them, I wouldn't have pushed myself to sprint to the end, and finished in a decent time, considering all the mishaps and stops during the run.

As I complete my first North Face 50km Duo Trail Race, I learnt that it's not always about winning or running the fastest split, but a humility in loving the sport and building camaraderie between fellow runners to overcome each of our own weaknesses and achieve our personal goals.